


my sanctuary (you're holy to me)

by starkhasheart



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Dirty Talk, First Time, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M, Praise Kink, Riding, Trans Crowley (Good Omens), Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-05
Updated: 2019-07-05
Packaged: 2020-06-09 19:07:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19482139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starkhasheart/pseuds/starkhasheart
Summary: Crowley can't take compliments. Aziraphale decides to shower him in them.





	my sanctuary (you're holy to me)

**Author's Note:**

> [cranks out two good omens fics in two days] when will your fave ever  
> title is from church by fall out boy  
> if you want to see stupid good omens tweets and david tennant thirst follow me on twitter @crowleylesbian or on tumblr @mixedpaints  
> hope you enjoy! sorry if there's any typos

Crowley’s not exactly used to being praised. It comes with being a demon. No one Downstairs really gave a damn about your accomplishments as long as you were securing souls for the Dark Lord. You’re given an assignment, you’re expected to complete the assignment, and you move on. No fanfare, not really any congratulations of the sort.

Crowley doesn’t know if he prefers it that way or not.

On the rare chance he _is_ praised, however, it sets something off inside of him. He recalls back to that day at the former nunnery when Aziraphale gave him a simple complement. It was like something in his brain switched off and an electric current slithered down his spine and all he could think of to deal with it was grabbing the angel by his lapels and shoving him against the wall. He’s not a nice person, he’s a _demon_. Nice is a four-letter word. He _hates_ four-letter words.

The same thing happened while they were dining at the Ritz, after the failed Apocalypse and their clever switcheroo to fool Heaven and Hell. Aziraphale complimented him before they toasted to the world, and once again Crowley felt every nerve in his body come to life like a live wire, but he managed to control himself by not snapping his glass in half with his bare hand.

Why does the act of being praised do this to him? Why does it set him off so badly?

And why is it, that it only happens when it’s _Aziraphale?_

He seems to figure it out one day, when they’re sat on the couch in the back of Aziraphale’s bookshop, when they’re finally ready to take their relationship to the next level.

After the failed Apocalypse and their brush with Heaven and Hell the two entities realized what they wanted, and that it was each other. They exchanged confessions between sips of wine in the back of Aziraphale’s bookshop, their lips eventually finding each other in the dim lamplight. It was perfect, Aziraphale was everything Crowley wanted and more, and he was glad the confession of his love for his angel was lifted off his shoulders. They were free to do as they pleased without their respective bosses breathing down their necks anymore and they both grabbed at the opportunity with fervor.

He’s sat on top of Aziraphale’s lap, their lips moving against each other languidly as the angel’s hands push up the cloth of Crowley’s jacket to map out the expanse of his back. When Crowley’s mouth moves and attaches to Aziraphale’s neck, the angel’s perfectly manicured nails dig into the skin of the demon’s shoulder blades, and Crowley hisses into Aziraphale’s throat. He runs his forked tongue up the expanse of Aziraphale’s neck, running over his Adam’s apple, his jawbone, until he reaches his lips again to give him another kiss. Aziraphale smiles against his lips, his hands moving from Crowley’s back to thread through his auburn hair.

When Aziraphale opens his mouth to speak, what he says causes that feeling to bubble in Crowley’s chest and he wants to stamp it down like a embers of a fire.

“You’re absolutely gorgeous, my dear.” Aziraphale cards his fingers through Crowley’s hair, mussing up the style. “I love every inch of you.”

Tingles shoot down Crowley’s spine, arms, and legs, from the top of his head to the tips of his toes, and he feels the telltale heat pooling in his groin. He sinks his teeth into his bottom lip, freckled face flushing brilliantly at Aziraphale’s words. He’s trapped in the angel’s arms and all he can do is bury his face in the other entity’s shoulder and let out a pathetic whimper.

“My beautiful, brilliant demon,” Aziraphale continues, peppering kisses to Crowley’s exposed neck. The compliments buzz in Crowley’s head like a hornet’s nest and the heat between his legs begins to throb. It’s embarrassing how Aziraphale’s simple compliments can get him wet so easily and he wants to run away with his proverbial tail between his legs.

Crowley manages to wrench himself away from the angel’s neck, face flushed, not meeting the other’s eyes. “ _Sssstop_ that.”

“Oh, I know how you are about compliments. But I simply can’t help myself, love.” Aziraphale frames Crowley’s face with his hands, forcing the demon to meet his eyes. Crowley’s pupils are dilated, so much so the yellow of his eyes is a mere disc circling the black. “I’ve been wanting to say these words to you for six thousand years and you’re just going to have to sit here and deal with it.”

Crowley groans, going to cover his face with his hands, but Aziraphale grabs them before he can and starts to lavish kisses on every knuckle, every finger. The demon rolls his eyes. “You’re impossible.”

“No, dear. Just in love,” Aziraphale says, pressing a kiss to Crowley’s palm. “Has anyone told you that you have gorgeous hands? Such slim fingers; I’d believe you’d be a wonderful pianist.”

Crowley can’t help the pitiful whimper that escapes his throat and the twitch his hips gives, and he moans when his clothed pussy grinds against the tenting fabric of Aziraphale’s trousers.

“Angel,” the demon warns, voice thick with lust. “You’re going to discorporate me.”

“Most certainly not. We haven’t even got that far yet.” Aziraphale smiles, slate grey eyes twinkling. “I believe you’re wearing too much clothing. I want to see all of you, dear.”

Aziraphale then takes his time undressing the demon, laying kisses upon kisses on newly exposed flesh, his hands roaming down the demon’s naked back, running over the knobs of his spine, before reaching his trousers. Taking the hint, Crowley slides off Aziraphale’s lap for a quick second to rid himself of the offending fabric, and Aziraphale sucks in a breath when he sees the wet spot on Crowley’s underwear. Crowley fidgets a bit before sliding them off, a string of wetness clinging to the fabric.

“Oh, _Crowley_ ,” Aziraphale whispers. With a snap of his fingers his clothes are miraculously gone, folded neatly somewhere out of sight.

“Hey, that’s not fair,” Crowley protests. “Maybe I wanted a show, too.”

Aziraphale chuckles, as Crowley allows his eyes to run over his soft form. “Maybe next time, dear. We do have the rest of eternity, after all.”

The thought sends a jolt of excitement through his belly. The rest of eternity with the angel he loves the most doesn’t sound half bad.

Aziraphale beckons the demon onto his lap again, and with no clothing in the way, the skin to skin contact makes Crowley gasp. Aziraphale’s cock is rock hard between them, uncut, the head already leaking pearlescent liquid. Curiously, Crowley reaches to swipe his thumb across the slit, catching a bead of pre-come with his finger. He brings it up to his mouth and makes a great show of sucking the digit clean.

“Oh, you saucy little minx,” Aziraphale groans, grabbing Crowley by the neck and dragging him down for a kiss. Crowley moans into his mouth, hips rolling of their own accord, grinding his throbbing pussy against Aziraphale’s thigh. “My goodness, Crowley, you’re so wet for me, aren’t you?”

Crowley can merely nod, sighing at the needed friction between his legs. Aziraphale’s hands suddenly move to his ass and grips him firmly before he switches their positions, Crowley’s back on the couch and Aziraphale looming between his thighs, one hand splayed across Crowley’s flattened stomach. The demon’s heart lurches at the sight of Aziraphale between his legs and the implication that comes with it, and he moans when the angel starts lavishing his thighs with kisses and love bites.

“So wet for me, dear,” Aziraphale says, reaching with one finger to drag through the wetness of Crowley’s cunt. The demon gasps at the contact, fingers digging into the couch cushion beneath him. The gasp morphs into a moan as he watches Aziraphale put the finger soaked in Crowley’s arousal into his mouth, tongue lapping the wetness up. “It’s only fair I get a taste, too.”

“Please, angel,” Crowley begs, but he doesn’t know what for. Just for the angel’s touch, his mouth, anything to relieve the throbbing between his legs.

“So pretty,” Aziraphale says, using two fingers to spread Crowley’s lips. The demon covers his face and lets out an embarrassing noise. “May I?”

“ _Pleassse_ ,” Crowley manages to hiss out, and he keens when Aziraphale finally puts his mouth against him.

Crowley is known for doing weird things with his tongue, but what Aziraphale is doing with his mouth against Crowley’s cunt absolutely makes what Crowley does pale in comparison. The angel sucks on Crowley’s hardened clit like he’s sucking a thick milkshake through a straw and Crowley cries out, back arching off the couch and eyes flying wide open. Aziraphale reaches under Crowley to grab his ass, digging his fingers into the meat there before throwing Crowley’s legs over his shoulders. The demon squeezes his thighs around the angel’s head, being careful not to crush Aziraphale’s skull with brute-force strength.

“Oh, Go—Sata— _somebody_ , Aziraphale, your _mouth_ ,” Crowley rasps, whining when he feels one of Aziraphale’s fingers sliding into him with ease.

“You taste so good, Crowley,” Aziraphale says against his skin, the vibration of his words causing Crowley to shiver. “So wonderful, so beautiful for me.”

Aziraphale adds a second finger and Crowley hisses at the stretch, and he finds himself fucking down onto Aziraphale’s fingers. Aziraphale slides in a third finger and Crowley _keens,_ his voice hitching when Aziraphale hits that sweet spot within him.

“I’ve been wanting to take you apart like this for a long time, darling,” Aziraphale confesses, pressing a kiss to Crowley’s throbbing clit. “Watch you come apart beautifully for me, bursting at the seams. My imagination just doesn’t do this sight justice.”

“You—you’ve thought about this before?” Crowley manages to grit out, gasping when Aziraphale hits that spot inside him again.

“Of course I have, love, I’ve wanted you for millennia. I’ve gotten off plenty of times fantasizing about sinking my cock into you and you coming around me so beautifully. Never expected for it to actually happen, though.”

The words, the sensations, they’re all too much for Crowley to handle at the same time, and with a ragged whine of Aziraphale’s name, Crowley comes. His back arches off the couch and his pussy clenches around Aziraphale’s fingers tightly as waves of pleasure wash over him like the ocean, his serpentine eyes rolling into the back of his head. Aziraphale whispers encouragements to him as he comes down, pressing soft kisses to the inside of his thighs. When Crowley’s cunt stops clenching around his fingers, Aziraphale gently pulls them out, Crowley whining at the loss of feeling.

Weakly, Crowley manages to push himself up to a sitting position before pulling Aziraphale down into a heated kiss, moaning as he tastes himself on the angel’s lips. He slides his forked tongue into Aziraphale’s mouth, drinking in the moan the other entity makes when their tongues brush against each other. Crowley is intensely aware that Aziraphale is still hard, and that his pussy is still throbbing, and that he’s feeling rather _empty_. He crawls back to his place on Aziraphale’s lap, their mouths still crushed against each other as he does so.

“I want you— _inssside_ me,” Crowley hisses. “Now.”

“Of course, my love,” Aziraphale murmurs into Crowley’s flushed neck, grabbing his cock and lining it up with Crowley’s pussy. “Anything for you.”

Crowley begins his descent onto Aziraphale’s dick slowly, and the stretch causes him to hiss in pleasure. What Aziraphale’s cock lacked in length he made up in girth, rubbing against Crowley’s walls deliciously. Once Aziraphale bottomed out, Crowley was fully seated in Aziraphale’s lap, his cock deep inside the demon. Crowley shudders, scrabbling at Aziraphale’s shoulders to gain some traction.

“Crowley, you’re so _tight_ ,” Aziraphale rasps, digging his fingers into the meat of the demon’s thighs. Crowley is aware that they’ll be covered in bruises tomorrow and the thought makes his clit twitch.

“You’re so big,” Crowley replies, voice husky. With shaky thighs, the demon lifts himself up slightly, then slams himself back down onto Aziraphale’s lap. “Oh, _fuck_.”

He feels like he’s being driven mad with how well Aziraphale’s cock fits into his tight cunt, how good it feels when he lifts himself up and drops himself back down onto it. Aziraphale grunts, hands fluttering to Crowley’s hips before his own start to move, thrusting up into Crowley’s wet heat as Crowley thrusts his hips down. The room is filled with sounds of skin against skin, Crowley’s wails of pleasure, and the smell of sex. The demon’s mind is filled with haze as he fucks himself on Aziraphale’s cock, chasing his second orgasm of the night.

“Absolutely stunning,” the angel says, before taking one of Crowley’s nipples into his mouth and sucking. Crowley cries out, digging his sharpening, black nails into Aziraphale’s shoulders. “It’s like you were made to take my cock, my love.”

One day Aziraphale is going to kill him with his words, sweet as honey but filthy as can be. Crowley’s ears have begun to ring and he begins to roll his hips, Aziraphale’s cock rubbing against his walls deliciously.

“My beautiful, gorgeous demon,” Aziraphale continues, flicking both of Crowley’s nipples with his thumbs. “So perfect for me. So beautiful. You feel so good around my cock, love. I’m going to take great pleasure in fucking you for the rest of eternity.”

“Angel,” Crowley cries, bouncing on Aziraphale’s cock faster, rolling his hips deeper, his thighs shaking with the effort. Aziraphale reaches between them to rub Crowley’s throbbing clit. “Please—I’m _ssso_ close—please—”

“I can feel how close you are, dear. How your cunt draws tightly around my cock. I want you to come, Crowley. I want you to come so hard for me. Please?” Aziraphale leans over to suck Crowley’s earlobe between his teeth before whispering, “Come for me, darling.”

And Crowley does.

He sheathes Aziraphale’s cock deeply inside him as his orgasm hits him like a train whose tracks he was tied to, screaming Aziraphale’s name like it’s the only word he knows. Wave after wave of pleasure washes over him, his cunt clenching deliciously around Aziraphale’s cock, and he collapses, spent, against Aziraphale’s chest.

He doesn’t notice he’s been crying until Aziraphale’s thumb brushes away tears from his cheeks.

“My lovely little demon, always so good for me,” the angel whispers, lifting Crowley’s head up to kiss his forehead. “You look so gorgeous in the throes of pleasure.”

The words go right to Crowley’s clit and he whines in overstimulation. He lifts himself off Aziraphale’s chest and kisses his lips softly. Experimentally, he gives another roll of his hips, Aziraphale gasping against his mouth.

“You haven’t come yet,” Crowley observes.

“I suppose I haven’t. I was too focused on making you feel good, love.”

Crowley rolls his hips again, and again, causing the angel’s head to loll back.

“Will you do me a favor, angel?” Crowley asks softly, once again bouncing on Aziraphale’s cock.

“Anything,” Aziraphale rasps, swallowing. “Anything for you, my love.”

Slowly, Crowley leans forward, his breath puffing against the shell of Aziraphale’s ear. The angel shivers, his cock twitching deep inside Crowley.

“Come inside me. Fill me up. Make me yours, Aziraphale. _Forever_.”

Crowley’s words go straight to Aziraphale’s dick as his whole body seizes up and he comes, hard, with the force of a tidal wave. Aziraphale’s head falls back and he moans Crowley’s name like a prayer, and Crowley sighs when he feels hot spurts of angelic cum filling him up delightfully.

The two sit in silence for a moment, the only sound being their heavy panting. Crowley was soaked in sweat, his hair sticking to his forehead in a cute curl, and Aziraphale sleepily reaches up to brush it away. Crowley grabs his hand and presses a kiss to his wrist.

“I didn’t know my words could do that to you,” Aziraphale murmurs, bringing Crowley’s hand to his mouth to press a kiss to his knuckles.

Crowley shrugs, feeling the angel’s cock softening inside him. He doesn’t want to move; he wants to stay like this forever. “’S been like that since the beginning, angel. You’ve no idea the power you have over me. What your words do to me.”

“Perhaps I shall pay you compliments more often,” the angel muses, smiling. Crowley swears he can see the beginnings of a halo peaking out from behind him.

The two share a chuckle at that, and Crowley leans in to press a chaste kiss to the corner of Aziraphale’s mouth.

“Shower, then bed?” the demon says, worn out from the activities of the night. He’s going to be covered in marks and bruises in the morning, but part of him doesn’t care. It’s just a reminder of who he belongs to, and who belongs to him.

“Of course, dear,” Aziraphale says, wrapping Crowley in an embrace and kissing the tip of his nose.

“Hey, angel?”

“Yes, Crowley?”

The demon can’t help but smile. “I love you.”

And the angel, of course, smiles back. “I love you, too.”


End file.
